ORIUNDE AI FI  Wherever you are
by Roselyne
Summary: Tony Hutchinson's dark thoughts on Jacqui's and Aleksander's wedding day. He and Jacqui loves each other, but she's forced to marry Aleksander, or else Tony will be killed. How can Tony cope with the pain while his past seems a succession of failures?


**Disclaimer : **I have no right on HOLLYOAKS nor any of the characters used in this fanfic. I also haven't seen much of Hollyoaks, living in Belgium where the show is not broadcasted. But I've been following **Nick Pickard**'s career since 1993. I love him very much, and wanted to try and write a story about his character, as fanfics about Tony are almost inexistent.

**Warning: **my English is also horrible, being a French speaking person, so bear with me ;-)

**Warning 2:** this fic is quite depressive. You are warned. Don't read if you are brokenhearted for example

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**ORIUNDE AI FI****  
**_"Wherever you are.. "_

a fanfic by **Roselyne Marot**

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The sun was going down on that cursed day, clouds were gathering as if they felt something was wrong in the order of things. A soft but cold wind was rising, blowing away the dust and leaves on the pavement.

The day was grey.

Grey, and golden when some rays of the sun were still fighting their ways through the darkening clouds.

People might have said this was beautiful. Beautiful, in a sick, horrible way. But Tony didn't see it. Tony couldn't see much now. He was sitting down on a wooden chair on his balcony, his gaze not resting on anything in particular. One witness could have noticed the red, sad and slightly puffed eyes, intensifying their natural icy blue color. Eyes that often looked lost, innocent and goofy in the past, but that had been more and more displaying sadness and despair these latest years.

But there was no witness. He was alone, safe for all the bottles of beer gathering around him. He was getting short in these, by the way, but hadn't noticed it yet. Someone there could have told him.

But he was alone.

Everyone, even his brother, was gone. Gone to that cursed wedding where the last spark of joy in his life was getting bond to someone else.

Not even for love, or for money...

"But to save me...", he whispered out loud. He noticed the choked sound in his voice and drowned it quickly in another gulp of cheap beer. In the background of his room, some melancholic music was broadcasting from his computer. He realized now that the same tune had been playing over and over for the past hour. Bad listing. He could stand up and change it... but he liked it that way.

A melancholic Moldavian song he wasn't supposed to understand. Until earlier someone had given him the translation. Earlier in happy times, when he believed he could have another chance in his life. His daughter had been buried; his wife asked the divorce... He thought he couldn't survive all this pain at once, but someone had come, someone with dark hair and a sweet smile. Someone who had done the equivalent of taking his hand and telling him "come with me if you want to live" without saying a single word. He had grabbed that hand, like a drowning person would grab a piece of wood to stay afloat and breathing.

And now, he was again swimming alone in the cold ocean, with too few remaining strength in him to be able to reach the shore.

This was one of her favorite song, that Moldavian melancholic one. "Oriunde Ai Fi". She had once translated the words for him. He thought he hadn't pay much attention to it at that time. But now, maybe because he was in the correct mood to grab that song, the words were coming back to him naturally.

"Wherever you are..."

He raised his bottle to the sky as if he wanted to give a toast. "I wish you happiness, you blushing bride..."

But he couldn't drink it. He was still for a moment, then threw the bottle over the balcony with bitter anger. When he heard the crystalline, glassy sound it made when it hit the ground, he felt like his own heart had taken the blow.

And as the song looped again, he fantasized on the fact the translation he remembered matched exactly how he felt, what he thought.

**·..·..·**_ I've looked her in the eyes for the last time  
_**·..·..· **_Tears fell down, they were so bitter  
_**·..·..· **_She asked me not to forget, it felt like the last Summer_

He was whispering softly as the song went on, not sure the translation was right. But who cared? As long as he could voice out his despair... Who cared these were not the exact words of the song? They were the exact words in his soul.

And no one was there to care, anyway...

**·..·..·**_ While I said something like: "Love never dies".  
_**·..·..· **_Didn't knew that it was the last night  
_**·..·..· **_When it was so, so near  
_**·..·..· **_I remember only this_

He could remember the bright times that followed when he met her. He was like a wreck after his daughter Grace died, and his wife Mandy left him. He felt like reaching the bottom of the ocean before that new hand lifted him up again. He had felt air again on his face, and had hoped he could breathe completely again, and leave the cold water below. Get a chance in his life.

And keep it for good.

**·..·..·**_ When I saw her the last night  
_**·..·..· **_Last sight kept me remembering  
_**·..·..· **_Last disappointment that I won't forget_

He hadn't been able to keep it. For once he hadn't done anything wrong (yet, he added), she had left. To save him. She was now getting married to a man she didn't know and didn't love. She had a heavy past, and had to pay the price. But she accepted the price, so that he, Tony Hutchinson, would remain alive.

Aleksander Malota would get his papers to stay in United Kingdom, and Tony Hutchinson would get a chance to live a little longer. From what he understood today, had she refused to marry Alexander, _they_ – whoever those threatening _they_ were – would come by, and end Tony's misery. And certainly in a long and not pleasant way. He was their hostage in that dodgy wedding. And he hated himself for being so weak.

**·..·..·**_ Every evening when she tries to go to sleep  
_**·..·..· **_Cry and listen a piece of her preference  
_**·..·..· **_Because I make and I sense her so much closer  
_**·..·..· **_She reminds me of us and of our last night_

Why did it have to be _him_?

Couldn't he get at least once a piece of happiness without some dark hurricane to come by and destroy everything? Leaving him once more broken on the floor... Time was passing by, but the blows and the pain were always coming back.

There was no apparent redemption.

**·..·..· **_The last kiss on cold lips  
_**·..·..· **_I sense her trembling with bitter mouth_

Since he heard with the sad tale, that he would loose her, he had been wishing, hoping, praying, that it was just a nightmare... That he would wake up in the morning and she would be there, smiling at him, and whispering 'just a nightmare, Honey. I'm by your side, and I'll stay so'.

But the nightmare is when you wake up. There was a knot in his throat that he wanted to cry out. Yet, he remained silent. He was maybe a fool, but he still had his pride.

**·..·..·**_ I kiss you all night in a dream  
_**·..·..· **_That's the real ghost of the last Summer  
_**·..·..· **_Last sight kept me remembering  
_**·..·..· **_Like a dream, like a tale lost in clouds_

The dark clouds had almost totally won the sun. Just a bare gold glow could see be seen. Maybe the sun would come back for another round, but now the wind was slightly colder, and slightly stronger, brushing Tony's dark hair from his face and making him shiver, thought he wasn't sure it was because of the cold.

He knew where his main flaws lied. He had a heart too big, and too full of that love he wanted to give to his friends, and to someone special. He had sought for that _special person _almost all his life. And each time someone would pay attention to him, the "strange guy from Gnosh", he would figure out that person was the _love of his life_. And he had then traveled from disillusions to deceptions: They didn't love him the way he did.

Some pretended they loved him to reach someone else, some pretended they were pregnant of him to get money from him, some pretended they loved him whilst they only needed comfort. And some were hurt by their past and preferred to leave everything, him included, not even giving him the chance to try and heal their heart.

'_Admit it'_, a voice whispered in the back of his mind, _'your girls are never simple, loaded with heavy bags of problems. How could you, insecure coward boy, help them? Look at you! Over thirty, and you can't even help yourself!'_

He clenched his jaws, trying to chase away the insidious voice. He didn't want to hear what could be the truth.

They had been playing with him, telling him what he wanted to hear at the beginning, to better strike him when they didn't need him anymore. And they probably laughed at the thought of him, curled up on the floor and crying inside.

He was too young for all that suffering. He wasn't as young as when it started, of course, but he had always been too young for that suffering. When did it start, really? As far as Tony could go back in time, his whole life always appeared to be touched by sufferings.

"I'm cursed..."

Tony didn't know if it was his state of mind that led him to consider _only_ the dark side of his life, but now that he was facing it, he couldn't see anything else. It was like his whole life had been made of missed occasions, broken dreams, false hopes... Had he an occasion to rise from his misery, it was only to fall deeper afterwards.

But people never realized that. For most of them, he was just the goofy guy, too stupid to realise his bad luck. The annoying guy thinking of insurances for old days, while other of his age wanted to have a simple life, full of simple fun. The air-headed guy who always came with the craziest ideas for business, only to have it ended in a splendid and memorable crash. The guy who imposed himself to some friends for a trip to France, pretending he could be of help to prevent one of his friends from killing another, but who ended up by being the emotional punching ball for stressed so-called friends, while he learned that another of his friends had been raped by her father, and there was nothing he could do to ease her sufferings. Oh yeah: He had married her later, but he hadn't cured the pain. And she was gone. He was useless.

His friends had also some problems, but not during their WHOLE freaking life! He could beat them all in a contest of bad luck if there was any! And he couldn't even help them. Least himself...

'_is it how you want to summarized your life?'_, the little voice started in the back of his mind. _'Can't you find any happy moments? Go on, seek well... For if you don't, better stop the suffering'._

Tony frowned at the annoying voice, but right now, he couldn't see any bright _and_ lasting moment. He was certainly one of the best disciples of Murphy's Law on Earth: whatever can go wrong, WILL go wrong.

'_You know what your so-called friends say?'_, the little voice again_. ' "Poor ol' Tony is too stupid to realize his bad luck. No risk of suicide for him" '._

Was it true?

Even after Grace's death?

Even after Mandy's departure?

Could there still be people thinking that?

'_They __are all having fun at Jacqui and Aleksander's wedding',_ the voice whispered again_. 'If they liked you that much, if they worried for you that much... They would be _here_, with you...!'_

Tony considered then his surroundings for the first time in the past hour. He was a lonely man in a lonely wooden chair, surrounded by many empty bottles of beer. Too many for one drinker alone. Dark clouds, like dark omens, gathering in the sky.

A lonely man, both too young to face this despair and too old to dare wishing for better days to come. And the melancholic Moldavian song went in a new loop...

·..·..·_ Oriunde ai fi, eu te voi gasi..._

'_They don't care about you'_, the insidious voice whispered again in the back of his soul, _'they see you eventually as a comic side-kick, but they don't care about you... they are not here when you obviously need help...'_

Tony took then a deep breathing, noting a various set of aromas: the wood and metal from the balcony, the beer drying malt spilled from some of the bottles on the floor, the ozone in the air

_(a storm is coming)_

the metallic odor of the rain to come

_(do you want to face a new hurricane?)_

and the feel of hundreds of tiny electrical sparks on the skin of his face and in his hair.

_(can you face a new hurricane?__ Better stop the suffering)_

Tony felt like some cold metallic blade had been entering his skull from above, and moving to the back of his neck. It wasn't exactly painful, but scary. Such morbid thoughts had never reached him earlier. Never in his many depressive moments had he arrived to that conclusion.

The end of all things. The end of all sufferings. How tempting it looked...

How far from him, but how tempting... How come he never grabbed that conclusion before?

'_Because you never reached that despair before'_, here was the voice again. _'How worst can it become, dude?'_

Tony clenched his eyes as he put his hands on the rail of the balcony. No, he didn't want to think how worst it could become. Because he WOULD really find something worst! He felt he could really be talented in that field, given time.

He looked down the balcony, down to the street below. There was some activity there, but it seemed dulled by the oppressive weather. Could the weather affect him also? Leading his thoughts to this dark path?

_(I wonder how long the fall would last)_

But then he though again: **did** the weather forced Jacqui to marry Aleksander?

The answer was no. He could pretend Davey was the responsible of all this. But then, she could have ran away, disappeared from everyone, gone to another country, far from here, got a new life, and forgotten about this cursed wedding.

No, it wasn't Davey's fault, he realized. He was _his own fault_. It was because he existed that Jacqui had to go through that parody of a wedding. Because if she ran away, they would kill _him_.

'Then it means that someone finally found a use for poor old stupid goofy Tony', he thought bitterly. 'He can't keep a girl, he can't keep a business, he can't help his friends. But he's perfect as a hostage!'

Then a realization flashed through his mind like the thunder above. A hostage. That was of course what he was. But a hostage is worthless if no one wants to pay for him. Yet, Jacqui accepted to pay for his life by wedding Aleksander. Could this mean poor-ol'Tony meant something to her?

She told him she loved him. "Yippee Kay Yay!", as the other would say! How many girls had told him that before? ... before stabbing him in the back while running away from him with what was left of him?

But she hadn't just told him she loved him, she _did _undergo the sacrifice for him. He had tried to prevent that sacrifice by gathering the money she owed Davey, but money was apparently not the only thing she owed him...

But she loved him, that wreck of a man once named Tony Hutchinson. She loved him enough to keep him alive.

Tony looked down the street again. He wouldn't jump. It would only make things worse for Jacqui. Had he jumped yesterday, Davey would have no hostage left to keep her, and she could have run away. But today, it was too late. Right now, Jacqui was already Mrs Malota.

It was too late to jump.

Yes, it would end his misery, but it would be like betraying her...

He looked up the sky, where some golden glow was still fighting room with the dark and sick-grey clouds. "I will stay alive, for her", he said out loud. "I will fight for her", he added after a moment. For every lover who tells a similar phrase and gets the marvelous return of sunshine, ninety nine other lovers get nothing else than a pouring rain. Tony felt the first drops hitting his face after a few seconds, and got a bitter smile on his lips. He sighed and realized then that the song was still looping in the background. Always so melancholic... But what did these words mean, again?

**·..·..· **_Wherever you are I will find you  
_**·..·..· **_Wherever you are I will love you  
_**·..·..· **_Whenever, night or day I will find you  
_**·..·..· **_When will I love you to myself  
_**·..·..· **_My sweet one, my bitter one... I will find you..._

He moved backwards from the balcony, cautious, keeping the street at sight, as if it was welcoming him, daring him to try.

'_Oh, you could'_, the inside voice started again. _'Yeah, be my guest. You are full of good resolutions right now, but with your usual luck? Wanna bet that she'll finally grow found of that immigrant boy? C'mon! People haven't been bitchy enough with you before? You dare to trust them? You still dare to hope?'_

Tony kept moving backwards before he could change his mind. But the voice came back:

_'Go on, jump. It's easy! Just one little fall, and straight to the great wheel of Karma to be redirected onto your next life. Or the life afterwards, if you spend the next one as an ant to pay for the pain you inflicted in this one ! For you are not at all innocent ! They made you suffer, but so DID YOU !!'_

Under the shock of that last thought, Tony stumbled on some bottle of beer left on the floor and fell backwards, smashing into the table where two other bottles rolled down to break on the floor. He hissed as he felt some biting pain when some pieces of glass cut through the palm of his right hand. He raised his hand in front of his eyes, and removed the broken glass still incased in his palm.

Some blood was coming from the little cuts. Not enough to be deadly, of course,

_(Jeez, Tony... You want to tempt fate or what?)_

but enough to clear his mind from the turmoil where he was before.

For a moment, at least.

'_So you want to go on?'_, the voice came back, _'do you want to risk the sight of Jacqui and Aleksander as a real couple? Do you want to be here, in the next month or so, regretting that you didn't do it today? Do you want to give someone one more occasion to prove you are cursed in your relations with people?'_

"I will go on", Tony replied out loud, not caring now if someone could actually hear him.

'_You want to go on for her?'_, retorted the voice. _'I don't want to spoil your good resolutions, but she is Mrs Malota now. Ever thought of the upcoming wedding night between her and her new husband tonight? Ever thought of that?'_

Tony felt as if a bubble of acid had exploded in his stomach. He wanted to chase away the image of Jacqui and Aleksander, together in their wedding bed into an embrace that wouldn't be as forced as their wedding had been. Would Jacqui force herself to that point?

'_You bet she will'_, the voice again. _'And with your luck, she'll even find pleasure in this.'_

Without thinking twice, he rolled his sleeve above the elbow, revealing the pale flesh of his arm. "I will trust her!", he said again out loud, but his voice didn't seem as determined as he wanted. And the rain started to fall heavier. He didn't like how that voice seemed reasonable.

'_My, My__... What do we have here?'_, the infamous voice spoke again, _'You still wanna trust someone after all they did to you? Better stop the suffering right now!'_

"No", Tony replied coldly, clenching his jaws, trying to convince himself before he'd be totally lost. "I will trust her... You're just a voice in my head, and you SHUT UP NOW!!!"

With no other warning, he grabbed the piece of glass in his right hand, and cut through his left forearm. The pain was so unbearable that he shut his eyes, his mouth opened in a silent scream. He hadn't expected _that_!

Then, he realized the voice was now silent. Everything was silent but the sound of the falling rain and the Moldavian song in the background.

**·..·..·**_ I will love you at night under the starry sky_

He didn't dare opening his eyes first,

_(What have I done? __My God, what have I done? I just wanted that voice to leave me...)_

too scared of what he would find. What if he had cut too deep? What if he had finally done the extended - director's cut - version of the jump from the balcony?

_(But the voice is silent now. And the pain of the past is fading away.)_

It was true! Worried as he was about his wound, he had momentary forgotten about his previous train of thoughts. After awhile, he finally opened reluctantly his eyes and considered the wound.

_  
_**·..·..· **_Like in a nice dream of mine I will find you _

Some blood was flowing from it.

(_More than from your palm just a bit earlier.) _

It was near the elbow, but it was less deep than what he had feared. No vein had been severed. It wasn't deep enough... It wasn't deadly. He sighed with relief. For once, he'd been lucky; he almost smiled with the irony. Had the same wound been at the wrist,... He suddenly felt ashamed, and gathered the tissue from his shirt to press it against the wound to stop the flow. The pain came back rushing at him like a galloping horse, and he clenched his teeth not to yell. But he realized the torments were also gone. He was feeling better.

Slightly...

The voice hadn't returned, yet. His fears hadn't returned yet. His doubts hadn't returned yet. His bitterness hadn't returned yet...

They would, later. But for the moment now, he was quite and alone. And he didn't think of jumping from the balcony anymore. This was a good think.

« I will wait for you, Jacqui », he finally whispered to the sky, feeling tears of rage and shame almost reaching his eyes. The pain still pulsed in his left arm and he would need to cure the wound before someone else saw it and asked embarrassing questions. He would probably keep a scar for a long... long time.

_(But the voice is silent, now)_

But what was a little physical suffering compared to the peace he felt inside? Even if momentary? Now if the torment and the voice were to come back, well... He smiled a little. He would mark the passing days before her return, like a prisoner carves the stones of his cell to count the days before his freedom. Except that he wouldn't mark any stones.

_(maybe someone will see me, and help me before it's too late__. Please, help me before it's too late...!)_

**·..·..·**_ I will hug you tightly like the last night  
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Each passing day without her, he could mark his forearm, starting from the elbow, little by little, day by day, scar by scar. If he was lucky, he wouldn't need to go too far. But today's pain relieved him. And if tomorrow, the torments came back, he would cut them again. What was just one more scar, compared to the peace of mind? If he was lucky, there wouldn't be many. And if the voice was shut down, maybe he wouldn't be tormented again to the point of suicidal thoughts

_(one pain to ease them all)_

and would remain alive, for her. Little pain to ease everything. He wondered how he never thought about it earlier. This was so simple... He remembered how he had been unease before, with people doing those self-mutilations. Unease, and scared by the fact that it seemed like a drug to them after awhile. Now he couldn't blame them anymore. Except that it wouldn't be a drug for him. He was sure of it. No, he would be in control.

He was sure...

Just a way to count the days...

And ease the pain away...

"But don't wait too long", he whispered, half-smiling, as the rain started pouring strongly. He was shivering from the cold, but remained sit among the broken bottles. "Don't wait for too many days... Or I'll reach...". He didn't finish his sentence. There was no need.

One way or another, he would be free from suffering.

One way or another, freedom would come...

**·..·..·**_ I will always be near you  
_**·..·..· **_When I find... you._

Jacqui had cried when she had to leave him and join Aleksander. So he thought it would be ok if he cried a little for her, for him, for all the sufferings of the past, and the fears of the future. And as the rain kept on going with the storm, he realized it was a good thing. If one would come now, he could pretend there never were tears but rain on his face.

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**TO BE CONTINUED  
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_**Now the Thanks**_

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_**To Nick**__, for being such a marvelous actor who can do that hocus pocus to emotionally touch the public deep inside, and bring both tears or laughing. You still have many years, and a great career in front of you ;)_

_Note:__ If you ever read this, I know it's quite unpleasant sometimes to read fanfictions about a character you perform, especially if the fanfic move far away from what your character is supposed to feel... My apologies if it was so... But seeing how your character evolved in the past years in Hollyoaks, I do fear one day that the producers will decide it's time for Tony to commit suicide... :'(_

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Also:

**To GWD**, for having put that parody video of O-ZONE in your video gallery, which started it all.

**To Liono**, for getting the O-Zone song "Oriunde ai fi" on your computer just afterwards.

**To my ****neighbours**, for not killing me after the 5 hours they heard the looping "Oriunde ai fi" through the wall while I was writing that fic (in order to imagine easier what Tony could feel with that song in the background).

**To my parents**, for not drowning me when I was a kid (like some people do with kitten) ;-)

**To my readers**, who have been supporting me since 1997, when my English was far more horrible than now ;) and who – due to the filming of crazy movies - have sometimes to wait LONG before a new chapter comes out... ;'(...

_Note: How come each time you see Roselyne's name, you think "ok... either it'll be a good laughing, or we'll wish for a rope at the end"? ;-)_

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_**Note from 25th march 2010. **"THE END" became "TO BE CONTINUED". But it's not a change decided recently. At the very beginning, as I didn't know how the story would be accepted, I never thought I'd do a sequel. But since after I read on Hollyoaks forum how people liked the fic, I planned a few more chapters ;) . And it won't be a funny story ^^;;;  
_


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